A Guide-Book of Florida and the South for Tourists, Invalids and Emigrants

by Daniel G. Brinton

Exercise in the open air every day should be taken religiously and regularly. The kind of exercise must depend on circumstances. Rowing develops the chest and arms; walking, the lower limbs; riding is an excellent stimulant of the liver and lungs. When possible, they should be alternated. An hour each morning and afternoon should be consecrated to this purpose. A cheerful companion is an admirable adjunct in any of them.

There is another exercise of the greatest value. No person with a weak chest should neglect to practice every morning and evening, for ten or fifteen minutes at a time, deep inspirations. It is done thus: Stand or sit erect, throw the chest well forward, the arms back, then open the mouth and inhale slowly to the full capacity of the lungs. Retain the air several seconds by an increased effort, and then let it gradually escape. Breathe naturally a few times, then repeat the inspiration. This simple procedure has a wonderful influence. It increases the breathing power of the lungs, it expands the walls of the chest, in the opinion of some learned physicians, Professor Piorry of Paris for example, it is actually curative where tuberculous deposit has already taken place. But whenever else exercise is taken, it is best not to be before breakfast. Another salutary habit is to bathe the whole body every morning with salt and water of the temperature of the room. There is no real difficulty in this, even when traveling. A sponge or a wash towel, and a coarse dry towel for the skin, are all that is required. A plunge bath is as good, but not so convenient. When neither can be taken, the whole person should receive a thorough dry-rubbing. But the salt water bath is most useful to the invalid.

It would give me great pleasure to discuss at length the subject of food. But in fact tourists in most parts of the South must make up their minds to such fare as they can get, not such as they want. For instance, I place in the first line of the bill of fare for consumptives the article milk, fresh rich milk, five or six tumblers of it a day, dashed now and then, if you please, with a trifle of good old cognac or Jamaica spirits. Now milk is precisely the scarcest article at a Florida hotel in winter.

I lived once for a month on a plantation in the extreme south of the peninsula. The proprietor had two hundred head of cattle—many of the cows with calves—yet we actually did not have milk enough for our coffee.

In the next line of my bill of fare I place EGGS; three or four a day, boiled soft, or taken in the guise of a “flip,” with pale sherry. These, too, are not always, nor often, to be had for the asking in this country, where nature has done so much for the invalid and man so little. Fat meat comes next, or, in its place, butter and olive oil may be freely used. Coffee and chocolate are allowable; tea barely permissible. Tobacco, even the tasteless, “washed,” Florida tobacco, absolutely prohibited in every form. Some pure rye or wheat whisky may be taken, well diluted, three times a day, if it causes no unpleasant sensations, but all excess should be shunned. And, here, I advise those who wish pure liquors not to depend on hotel bars, restaurants, or provincial drug stores, but to provide them before leaving home.

Whatever food is taken, should be taken as nearly as possible at regular hours, in moderate quantities, and more frequently than in health. Those who are weak, will find great comfort in having a cup of broth, a glass of milk punch, or some similar food, placed by their bed on retiring, to take during the night. Late suppers, however, should be avoided.

In choosing a residence, see that it is at a distance from stagnant water, not very densely shaded, and not exposed to night fogs. The sleeping room should be on an upper floor, with a southerly or westerly exposure, and with plenty of air, light, and sunshine. The bed should not be in a draft, nor in a recess, nor against the wall. A spring or hair mattress, (cotton, so much used in the South, is not objectionable), is most healthful, and it is of prime importance to those with weak lungs, not to sleep under many covers. The windows may be left open nightly, if the situation is dry.

The question is often asked about exposure to night air. Our distinguished literateur, N. P. Willis, long a sufferer with pulmonary disease, used to maintain that the atmosphere at night was quite as healthful as by day. The nightfall, when at dusk the temperature rapidly lowers, he found most hurtful. The air at night is, as a rule, colder than during the day, and is often saturated with moisture. Certainly, therefore, those who think with Mr. Willis, will do well to protect themselves by extra clothing. The safest plan is to avoid exposure, except on unusually clear, mild, and dry evenings.

The final suggestions I have to make are about medicines. I put them last, because they are, in a certain sense, of secondary importance. Many a patient destroys his digestive powers, and deteriorates his blood by pouring down “stomach bitters,” “cough syrups,” “purging pills,” and even the more appropriate prescriptions of his physician. Cod-liver oil and iron, with perhaps a little syrup of wild cherry at night to allay the cough, are the only drugs of much avail in consumption, and the less one exclusively trusts to these for recovering, the better.

Quinine, prepared in three-grain pills, should be carried. One pill before breakfast should be taken whenever one is exposed to the marsh miasms. I have already suggested a tincture of the peel of the bitter-sweet orange in whiskey, for the same purpose.